


Stormseeker: Betrayal of the Shapers

by Serriya (Keolah)



Series: Stormseeker Saga: Alternate Timelines [11]
Category: Geneforge
Genre: Alcohol, Canon - Video Game, Drama, Gambling, Gen, Genetic Engineering, Humor, Swearing, Temporary Character Death, Time Travel, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-13
Updated: 2015-09-18
Packaged: 2018-04-20 15:40:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4793078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Keolah/pseuds/Serriya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lexen goes back in time whenever he otherwise would have died. When the Shaper academy on Greenwood Isle is attacked, he finds himself in the position to change the course of history. But will immortality be enough to bring about freedom for all beings?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. We Didn't Start the Fire

My name is Lexen, the Shaper apprentice. I'm a student at Greenwood Academy, in the Ashen Isles. I'd wanted to be a Shaper my whole life. Not that I really remember my childhood anymore.

"What is this supposed to be?" The potions teacher points at my cauldron accusingly. "You call this a potion? No, no, you've missed a step. Again. Why are you so useless at this?"

Things have not always been as good as I hoped they might be. A lot of study and hard work. And I don't think I will ever get potions right.

"Come on," the teacher says. "You need to be punished for your failure. Maybe next time you will remember the correct steps and be able to do it right. But I won't hold my breath about it."

Being beaten for every misstep is only right and fair, after all. How else will I learn otherwise? The Shapers are strict because they have to be. Because they can't let just anyone learn their dangerous secrets.

But it doesn't make me hate them any less.

Despite my aching body, I'm so exhausted that I fall asleep in moments. If there's one thing I'm good at, it's sleeping. Every time I go to sleep, I dream of the power I might wield one day, of leading an army that fears and respects me. I dream of strange creatures like nothing the Shapers have yet to imagine, and think that one day I might invent new creations.

I dream of flying.

A deep, sudden sound vibrating through the stone around me wakes me from my sleep. Was that an explosion? I can only speculate that something must have gone horribly wrong upstairs. Some magical accident, some experiment failing catastrophically. I clamber out of bed and pull on my blue robes, frowning deeply, and head for the door to find out for myself.

Snatching up a dagger along the way, I hear shouting and explosions, the stone shuddering above my head. This can't be good. Did some experimental creation go rogue? If some disaster bad enough were to occur, they might just seal the whole place with us inside. I pick a corridor to head down, the most expedient way to the surface, and hurry along.

Another explosion rocks the school, and everything around me shakes again. The ceiling cracks, and large stones tumble loose to crush me beneath their weight. Rocks fall, and I die.

* * *

A deep, rumbling wakes me from my sleep. That's always a little disorienting, waking up again after dying. Well, I suppose it's preferable to the alternative. Nobody else seems to be able to do that. Another chance at avoiding whatever killed me. I take it in stride. I've been doing this for years. It's probably the only reason I've survived as long as I have. Shaper training can be dangerous.

As I head up the corridors, taking a different route this time, the sounds begin to quiet down. Maybe they've gotten whatever is up there under control, and there won't really be a problem after all. I still want to find out what happened, though. There's been a lot of damage, and many corridors have been blocked by rubble. Whatever happened here was pretty serious.

Unfortunately, with so many routes collapsed, that leaves me to trying to escape through the Shaping caverns. Given the extent of the damage, I can't even be sure if there's a way out there, either, but I'll have to try. My heart pounds in my chest. What if there isn't a way out? What if I'm trapped down here? I'd be left to hoping someone would clear it out and find me down here, or desperately trying to push past the rubble by any means necessary.

Judging by the hissing and squelching sounds, however, it would seem that some of the creations have gotten loose, too. I emerge into the caverns to find the place swarming with worms. Ugh, I hate these things. Disgusting and useless. Their green, slimy bodies slither along, threatening to bite my ankles. I raise my hands and throw fire at them from a distance, incinerating a couple of them, then when they get too close, I stab at one with my dagger.

There's too many of them, and they stop threatening to bite my ankles and start actually biting my ankles. They aren't that dangerous on their own, but there's enough of them that I'm overwhelmed. I lose my balance and stumble, and fall on my back. I continue to fight frantically, even as my lifeblood drains onto the stone floor.

* * *

A rumbling sound wakes me, and I groan softly. Being nibbled to death by worms is a new one for me. With a sigh, I head back over to the Shaping caverns again.

I'm going to need to be more careful, and I'll probably need help with this. Round shaping platforms stand knee-high in the center of the room, with healing and essence pools swirling along the walls. Drawing in some essence from the pools to revitalize me, I approach one of the platforms.

They haven't taught me much yet, but I can manage simple creations. Fire creations have always come most easily to me. A small reptile, standing waist-high when it's on the ground, takes form beneath my hands and magic. A fyora, they call it, fire-breathing lizards that are quite a common sight in Shaper lands. As it comes to life and I withdraw my hands, it blinks and looks around, then looks to me for orders.

"There you go, little guy," I say in a soothing voice. "I think I'll call you Sparky."

With the newly-shaped fyora at my heel, I head into the caverns cautiously. We pick off the worms from a distance and retreat toward the Shaping chambers when necessary to use the essence pools.

Soft sounds of whimpering can be heard off to the right. A girl, about my own age, one of the other novices at the school. I think her name is Therese. She's hiding from the worms, and looks up at me plaintively as I approach, eyes lightly up with hope.

"Lexen! I was afraid nobody else had survived," Therese says, her voice shaking. "I-- I've seen bodies..."

"It's alright, Therese," I say reassuringly, though as much reassuring myself as Therese. "Stay behind me and we'll find a way out."

"Are you sure there's even still a way out?" Therse says. "A lot of tunnels have collapsed..."

"No, I'm not," I admit. "But it beats doing nothing and hoping someone comes to help. There might not even be anyone alive up there for all we know."

Therese frowns at that. "There's full Shapers up there. I-- I'm sure they could handle whatever happened... Couldn't they?"

"It's hard to say. Let's get moving."

We fight our way through another swarm of worms. It's a good thing Therese is with me after all, backing me up with acid spells. There's a lot of worms this way, threatening to overwhelm us. Therese is terrified, but at least she keeps a handle on herself enough to fight. Finally, mercifully, we reach a staircase leading up to the main floor. Therese darts up ahead of me and runs off down one of the corridors, ignoring me shouting at her to stop and wait for me. I sigh as I can't see where she went, shaking my head. She's going to get herself killed that way.

The school has grown eerily silent. I don't know what happened here, but it seems to be over, one way or another. More rogue creations lurk in the corridors, crawlers that I don't even notice before they're close sometimes. I and Sparky cut them down with fire as we go, trying to see where Therese went. Along the way, I grab a pack and try to salvage whatever I can from the ruins.

After doing a circle around part of the school, I come upon Mind Hrrol's chambers. The servant mind looks up from its tray, happily waving its useless, stubby legs upon seeing me. The fungal turrets defending it have been wounded, but are still alive.

"I'm glad to see you survived, Novice Lexen," Mind Hrrol says. "This is terrible..."

"What happened here?" I ask.

"I can't tell you much. It was deadly, and many Shapers are dead." He whimpers mournfully. "Creations did this! They attacked a place of the Shapers, who they owe for their very existence! It's hard to believe that they would dare."

"Do you know if anyone else survived? Did you see Therese? We got separated and I can't find her."

"No, I haven't seen her. I am sorry," Mind Hrrol answers. "All of the teachers are dead, save one. Only Master Hoge survived, but he has not come to speak with me. I don't know where he is, either."

I nod. "Alright, thank you. I'll go look for survivors and clear out the rest of these rogues."

"Good luck to you, young Shaper," Mind Hrrol says. Why do I get such a feeling of dread at those words?

There's no sign of Therese anywhere, although I haven't found her body either, which is probably a good sign. In the combat training hall, however, I run across another survivor, a young Guardian novice by the name of Alwan. Hearing my footsteps, he turns in alertness, blade in hand, but barely relaxes upon seeing who I am, his solid muscles still tense and ready to fight.

"Oh, it's you," Alwan says. "Of all the people who could have survived..."

I snort softly. "This is hardly the time for petty disputes. What happened here?"

Alwan sighs. "The school was attacked. I saw creations intended for war -- battle alphas, glaahks. There was even some sort of big lizard breathing fire."

"A drayk?" I say, eyes widening in surprise.

"Maybe so," Alwan says. "They've been Barred for centuries, no one allowed to create anymore, but I didn't imagine we'd be attacked like this, either. Rogue creations, working together in an organized assault? Almost as if another Shaper were attacking us!"

"Do you suppose that could be what happened?"

"I don't know," he says, shaking his head. "The idea seems preposterous, but so do the alternatives." He sighs again. "The novices were going to fight, but the teachers held us back and went to fight themselves, and now most of them are dead. I should have been there. I should have been fighting alongside them."

"You'd only have gotten killed yourself," I say. "The servant mind said that Master Hoge survived. Have you seen him?"

"He's in his quarters, I think."

I nod. "Alright, it seems like our first order of business is to speak with Master Hoge."

"Maybe he'll have orders for us," Alwan says. "I'm sure he'll know what to do. How we can get revenge on those who would dare attack us. The ones who slaughtered so many people."

"Whatever their reasons might have been, there's no excuse for this butchery," I say. "The students here are barely more than children. Even if, I don't know, one of the teachers angered someone at some point, _we_ have done nothing to anyone yet."

Alwan doesn't bother to argue, and follows me as I head toward Hoge's chambers. We find him quickly packing his belongings, looking like he hasn't even seen battle today. A hulking humanoid form stands watch over his room, his battle alpha, Splitclaw.

"Master Hoge?" I stand in the entrance to the room. "What happened here?"

"Attack. Many dead. Very sad," Hoge replies tersely, not even bothering to look up at us. Alwan frowns but says nothing.

"I can see that," I say. "Where are you going? What are we to do now?"

"Go see Mind Hrrol, I guess," Hoge says, waving a hand dismissively. "I'm sure he'll have some advice for you." He finally pauses for a moment to look up at me. "Answer this question. You're in charge of a mine. The resources are important, but the mine is dangerous. Serviles have been injured--"

I hold up a hand. "Master Hoge, this hardly seems the time for moral questions."

"I choose the appropriate time. Answer the question."

"We were _attacked_ ," I snap. "People are _dead_. What in the nether realms is wrong with you?"

Alwan puts in, "Lexen! This is hardly the way to speak to a Shaper. No wonder you get beaten so often."

I roll my eyes. "Considering the state of the school, and the fact that he seems eager to get out of here, I hardly think that matters. He's not our teacher anymore."

"He's still a full Shaper," Alwan says. "We're just novices!"

"Like I give a shit," I reply.

"Answer the question," Hoge insists, not even bothering to comment on our argument.

"Fine, I'll answer your stupid ethical question. I'll heal the damned serviles and shore up the mines myself if I have to. There's no reason to waste resources by letting serviles get killed and having to replace them, and no excuse if this oh-so-valuable mine were to collapse because I was careless."

Hoge nods. "I will bear this in mind."

I scowl. "Where are you going? What are your plans to do now?"

"I do not need to be questioned by students," Hoge replies.

"The school is in ruins and you're leaving," I say. "I'm not your student anymore."

"You would be better off worrying about your own future than mine."

"You didn't defend the school and now you're fleeing," I point out. "I don't think you've told me everything you know about this attack."

Hoge turns to look at me angrily, but then pauses. "You are smart, maybe too smart for your own good. But you are young, and your path is not yet chosen. When you travel, bear in mind that not everything the Shapers have told you is true, and theirs is not the only path."

"Really," I say, raising an eyebrow, one corner of my mouth twitching for a moment and folding my hands across my chest. "That's very interesting. Very well, I shall keep that in mind."

"See that you do," Hoge says. "Now leave me."

I nod. "Farewell." I turn to head back down the hall.

Alwan follows behind me and falls into step beside me. "I don't believe this. He's a traitor!"

"You're going to have a hard time in life if you disbelieve everything you encounter that is outside your experiences."

"I-- You--" Alwan puts his face in a hand and sighs. "I suppose there's a point to that."

I give a nod. "You might not like it, but you need to pay attention to what is before you and consider every possibility. Sometimes, even the unlikely ones."

Further down the corridor, I find Therese hiding in a classrooms, exhausted but seeming none the worse for wear.

"Therese," I say. "Glad to see you made it. When you ran off like that..."

"Sorry, Shaper," Therese murmurs. "I should have stayed behind you. It would have been safer. But I was scared of the rogues. There's too many of them. I need to rest."

I frown for a moment as something she said registers in my mind. "What, you're calling me 'Shaper' now? I'm still a novice, like you. And at this rate, it seems like we're not going to get a chance to finish our training anyway."

"Our teachers are dead. You're the one taking charge and getting things done here."

"Fine," I say. "Are you well enough to assist in clearing the school of rogues?"

"I need to rest," Therese says, hugging her legs to her chest.

"Alright," I say. "Then stay here and keep yourself safe. I'll let you know when it's clear."

As we continue down the corridor, Alwan mutters, "She'd never be cut out to be a Shaper if she's so afraid of our own creations like this."

"Not everyone is cut out to be a fighter," I say. "She might have been excellent with diplomacy or research. She didn't completely lose her head in the fight, and managed to survive, which is more than can be said about many here." I frown.

"Don't make light of the dead," Alwan snaps.

"I'm not," I say.

"She survived because she hid away like a coward."

"And what about you?"

Alwan opens his mouth to retort, pauses, then closes it again. "That's what I always hated most about you, you know."

"What's that?"

"That I don't like what you're saying, but that you have a point," Alwan says with a snort. "That doesn't mean I agree with you."

"You don't have to agree with me on everything." I smirk. "You have a right to your own opinions just as I am mine. And I have a right to attempt to sway you to mine, just as you do."

"The only opinions worth considering are those of the Shapers," Alwan says firmly.

"Well, you're welcome to go visit the Shaper Council every time you have a question about something." I chuckle. "As it is, we're the only Shapers here, and we're novices. The only living Shaper near us is, as you say, a traitor. Who are you going to ask for judgment? Whose wisdom will you follow?"

"The teachings that have been imparted upon us over the years."

"And what if they don't cover every situation you might encounter?" I ask. "You have to be able to judge for yourself and make your own choices. There are always choices. I might not always agree with you, but I will respect your right to choose."

"This sort of attitude is why you would never make it as a Shaper, Lexen."

"Maybe so." I shrug. "Maybe it won't even matter. Maybe we'll get eaten by a rogue drayk before the day is done."

We come upon the servile quarters. The small humanoid creations are terrified, huddled up and waiting for things to be safe again, waiting for new orders. One of them in the corner does not seem scared at all, however. She is quite calm, and seems almost gleeful.

"Hello, Shapers," the servile says.

"What's your name?" I ask.

"Hanna," she says, grinning widely.

"Are you alright?"

"Oh yes," Hanna says. "Quite well. Thank you for asking."

"What are you doing back here, servile?" Alwan demands.

"Waiting for the school to be clear of rogues," she replies.

"And then you will wait for orders?" Alwan asks.

"No, Shaper."

Alwan frowns. "You must already have orders from another Shaper, then."

"No, Shaper," Hanna repeats. "I am not weak and obedient, like these others. Your masters have probably kept it secret that my kind of exists. Free-thinking, independent serviles. When it is safe, I will leave and never look back, to rejoin my brothers and sisters."

"Where are you going?" Alwan asks, scowling.

"I will not tell you, Shaper."

"What? A servile refusing to answer a direction question from a Shaper?" Alwan says. "No, it must be under orders from another Shaper not to answer to us. Another Shaper must have sent it to spy on us."

I sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose. "Alwan, maybe it would be best if you left the interrogations to me from now on. Farewell, Hanna. Sorry for bothering you."

"Thank you, Shaper," Hanna says.

I practically drag Alwan away from the room. "What was that all about?"

"There was something strange about that servile..."

"That much is obvious," I say. "Did you notice she didn't talk like the other serviles? Did you even pay attention to what she was saying without letting your own preconceptions cloud your judgment?"

He frowns. "You're right, I've never heard a servile that could speak that eloquently." He stops. "Disobedient serviles? That creature is a rogue and we should destroy it immediately."

"And what good would that do?" I say. "She obviously wasn't acting alone." I shake my head. "No, if you want to root out the source of the problem, let her lead us to the ones she's really working for."

"Whoever was behind this attack must pay," Alwan says. He clenches his fists in rage as we come upon the fallen bodies of our teachers. "This affront cannot go unpunished."

"And you would have us send a frontal assault of two novices against an unknown enemy?" I say, shaking my head. "No, we need allies, and we need information."

Alwan pauses. "I still hate when you're right."

We work our way around to the front of the school, and I creep close enough to see what's blocking our way out. A large, muscular humanoid creature. "Aw, it's just a battle beta."

" _Just_ a battle beta?" Alwan says incredulously.

"I was kind of hoping for a drayk."

"Why in the world would you be hoping for a drayk?"

"Because drayks are awesome!" I say.

"Drayks are dangerous," Alwan points out. "They're also illegal. Because they're dangerous."

"That doesn't mean I can't dream of one day seeing one," I say, rolling my eyes. "Even if I get eaten by it shortly thereafter. Alright, Sparky, we've got a battle beta to kill." I nod to Alwan and set down my heavy pack. "Let's do this. I've got your back."

The fyora and I pepper the giant humanoid with fire, while Alwan charges up stabbing with his sword. A massive hand reaches down and punches Alwan hard, sending him crashing to the ground. The battle beta was already wounded, though, and another couple volleys of fire from me and Sparky is enough to send it staggering to its knees. Alwan clambers to his feet and cuts through its throat to finish it off. The creation melts into a puddle of essence upon dying.

"Are you alright, Alwan?" I ask, casting a feeble healing spell at him.

Alwan nods. "It was weakened already. It didn't do as much damage as it might have otherwise. My armor absorbed most of the blow." He looks askance at me. "You also need to work on your healing craft. That might have healed some bruises."

I snicker softly. "No arguments here."

"Really? That's a shock. Here I was starting to think you had an argument for everything."

"Well, if you really want me to argue, I will," I say with a grin.

"That's alright," Alwan says. "Let's get out of here."

We head out the gates, cautiously looking around. The turrets and guards are dead, but ahead, across the clearing, several large creations are milling about, as well as a robed figure.

"A Shaper?" Alwan says quietly. "Could that be who attacked the school?"

"There's too many of them to take in a fight," I say. "Maybe we can sneak around and reach the trees before they notice us..."

No such luck. The Shaper has spotted us and approaches, and with a wave of her hand, freezes me in place. I panic, wondering if I'm going to have to start this mess over and find another way out of the school somehow.

"We need to talk," she says. "No wandering off for you just yet."

As she approaches, I get a good look at her. I don't recognize her, but her appearance and demeanor is terrifying in a naggingly familiar way. Her face is expressionless, and her eyes are cold and almost seem to glow. She's looking at us in the way most Shapers look at serviles or other creations. Just things, beneath her.

"My name is Litalia," she says. "And as you can see, things are changing around here. This attack was not isolated, no mere fluke. The fires of justice will spread across the Ashen Isles, and one day soon, to all the world. Justice that is long overdue."

My eyes scan her creations, familiar battle alphas and glaahks, but there is one that is different. Green and scaled, walking on four legs, but with sweeping wings on its back. Vestigial, too small to fly with its bulk, but glorious and beautiful nonetheless.

"Is that a drayk?" I say excitedly.

Litalia looks to me impatiently. "Yes, that is a drayk. Soon you will learn, the fires of justice--"

"I've always wanted to see a drayk!"

Litalia tries to continue, "The time of the Shapers is passing--"

"This is totally awesome!"

Her expressionless facade broken, Litalia sighs and puts her face in her hand. "You are young, and have promise. I could use your assistance. If you wander these islands, you will find the forces I have scattered there. Aid them in delivering these islands to me and you will be rewarded."

"Okay," I say.

"If you would seek to join with me already, then you are foolish," Litalia replies. "You know nothing of me but that I have slaughtered your teachers and classmates."

"And that you're talking about justice and ending the rule of the Shapers," I interject. "Also, you have a drayk with you. That automatically makes you awesome."

"You know what. Do what you like on this island," Litalia says dismissively. "I am done here."

Litala gathers her creations and walks off, disappearing into the forest. I stand there, still frozen, for several minutes.

"Did she forget to let us go?" I wonder. I try to move my limbs as the spell slowly loosens its hold from us. "Oh, there we go."

"You are insane," Alwan says. "You can't seriously be considering helping her! She's a monster, a murderer, a traitor!"

"I don't know," I say. "Maybe. Her talk of justice is well enough, but her methods are bloodthirsty and misdirected. One way or another, though, it might be best to not protest too vehemently until we can find out what's really going on."

"I would rather gather up an army to fight her. We should warn Fort Kentia, at least. We could get a boat..."

I nod. "It'll be a place to start, at least." I heft my pack and adjust it over my shoulders with a grunt. "Ugh. I want a pack-roamer."

"Is there some reason why you collected every single thing in there that might sell for a few coins?"

"Useful supplies, or trade goods," I reply, heading off away from the school. "We're most likely going to need the money."

"Is the ale useful supplies or trade goods?" Alwan asks.

"Useful supplies. I have a feeling we're going to need that."

Alwan pauses. "You'd better share."

"We're going to need a lot more booze, I think," I say.

"Of that, we can agree."


	2. Know When to Fold 'Em

The small village of South End lies just a short ways outside the entrance to the school. The place seems deserted for the most part. I hope the inhabitants fled when the attackers came, rather than the alternative.

However, one young woman stands alert in the center of town, blade in hand. Greta is her name, one of my former classmates. She's still dressed like an Agent, but rumor had it she'd been expelled from the school for unknown reasons.

"Lexen!" she says, looking to me in relief. "Good to see you're still alive." She pointedly does not look at Alwan.

"I'm surprised to see you're still here," I say. "Though I'm glad you survived, too. It's been a few weeks since you... stopped attending classes."

Greta snickers. "That's one way of putting it. They threw me out of school, though probably just as well considering what happened here."

"Not to pry, but what happened, anyway?" I ask.

"They got tired of listening to her opinions and cleaning up after her," Alwan mutters.

"Because I asked too many questions," Greta replies, still not looking at him. "But let me ask _you_ a question. During our training, we made creations, and had to destroy them if something was wrong with them. Was it right for us to do so?"

"What, not you too?" I say. "Hoge already grilled me with moral questions while standing in the middle of ruins."

"I'd imagine he was interested in your answer, just as I am."

I roll my eyes. "Do you want me to tell you how cruel it was? How about the fact that I was only really good at making fyoras, and everything else came out as twitching puddles of essence that wouldn't have survived for long anyway? Wouldn't it have been more cruel to just leave them like that?"

"What about the creations who had no faults beyond their behavior?" Greta asks. "Like serviles who got scared and didn't do something precisely right, or didn't want to obey commands that would have gotten them hurt or killed?"

I sigh. "I can see where this is going. And this whole argument is stupid because we're not just dealing with scared serviles, but with dangerous rogues who are killing people. I wouldn't beat a servile for dropping a plate, if that's what you mean. But that doesn't mean I'd tolerate rogue creations who are threatening innocents."

Greta nods thoughtfully. "Maybe you've had the same sort of doubts I had, then."

"Shaper control must be maintained," Alwan says. "There is no place to be merciful or gentle in that."

"Alwan, at this point, the treatment of serviles is irrelevant and the Shapers have already lost control of this island," I say, and turn to Greta. "I don't imagine you'll be staying here much longer after all this. What are you going to do?"

Greta sighs. "I don't know that I want to go home and face the disappointment of my family just yet, but I don't know what to do. I think we're all way in over our heads here."

"Well, if we're in over our heads, maybe we'll be able to reach the surface if we stand on one another's shoulders," I say with a grin. "The way will be dangerous, of that I am certain. I would be glad for another blade at my side, and someone I could trust at my back."

"Lexen, we need real allies, not those cast out by the Shapers," Alwan says.

"You're welcome to go off by yourself and get eaten if you'd like, Alwan," I tell him. "As it is, we're going to need to stick together to hope to accomplish anything. And at this point, we could use all the help we can get. Greta's magic could save our lives out there."

Greta bites her lower lip. "I was forbidden to use the techniques I'd learned from the Shapers."

"Shaping techniques, yes," I say. "It's not against Shaper law for outsiders to use non-Shaping magic. Even Alwan here couldn't argue at you casting firebolts at a rogue battle beta trying to smash his chest in."

Alwan sighs. "Very well. But I don't have to like it."

A quick exploration of the village reveals that it isn't completely deserted, although the remaining inhabitants have been cowering behind closed doors. I head into the merchant shop.

"Ah, you're still here," I say, plopping my heavy pack down in front of him. "Are you still open for business? I hope you're open for business. Because I have a lot of junk to sell."

After selling what goods I want to get rid of, I turn to head out the door. As I do so, the merchant calls back to me, "Shaper! Your... lizard thing... is stealing one of my tools!"

I turn around to see Sparky approaching me with a living tool in its mouth, big eyes eager for approval. "Aw, there's a good fyora." I take the tool and scratch its head fondly.

"Lexen, you shouldn't be teaching your fyora to pilfer," Alwan says.

The merchant clearly has no idea how to respond to this, opens and closes his mouth a few times, and says, "If a Shaper wishes to train his pets, then who am I to argue. I am certain that skill might prove useful. Somewhere. Somehow..."

I head over for the inn. The place has been trashed, but the building and doors are intact, and most of the furniture is in serviceable condition. There's a couple worms hiding in one of the back rooms, and we make short work of them.

"You're going to sleep now?" Alwan asks as I make for one of the beds. "It's not even noon yet."

"I don't know about you, but I'm already exhausted, after that mess in the school," I say. That mess that I really don't care to repeat if something happens. Not when I have the opportunity to take a nap here and make sure the next time I wake up, it's in this bed instead.

"I certainly can't blame you," Greta says. "I don't know how you made it out of there in one piece."

"I almost didn't," I say quietly.

* * *

I wake up the next morning, stretching, and come out into the common room of the inn. Alwan and Greta found a pack of cards somewhere and have been playing cards with one another. I cock my head in amusement at them, and lean against the doorframe watching them quietly for a minute.

"You're cheating again, Greta," Alwan says. "I swear you must be cheating."

"Not my fault you're just bad at the game," Greta retorts. She glances up and notices me in the doorway. "Hey, sleepyhead. Was wondering when you were going to wake up. You were out all afternoon and night. Want a quick match before we head out? I'll set up a spot for you."

"Yeah, sure, why not," I say, taking a seat at the table.

Greta pushes over to me a pile of small bits of debris that they're apparently using as tokens, and starts to shuffle the cards with practiced fingers.

Alwan reaches over with his palm up. "I'll shuffle them this time. No more of your sticky fingers stacking the deck."

"Have at it," Greta says, holding up her hands and letting him shuffle.

"Were you guys sitting here playing cards all day?" I ask.

"We cleared out some rogues behind the mage's shop yesterday while you were asleep," Alwan replies, dealing out the cards.

I look down at the cards I've been dealt. Five of cups, nine of swords, nine of wands, three of wands, four of cups. Pair of nines, better than nothing.

Greta and Alwan begin to aggressively raise their bets, glaring across the table and each trying to one-up the other. I fold early on, and watch them go at it for a while.

Finally, Alwan sighs angrily. "Fine. I fold."

Greta grins mischievously and reveals her hand. Eight of coins, ten of cups, queen of wands, six of coins, three of swords.

"What? You had nothing," Alwan exclaims. "Nothing!"

I chuckle softly. and grin at Greta. "You were bluffing hard."

"I had a pair of fours," Alwan says. "I should have beaten you."

"I pushed you as far as I could just to see if you would blink."

With Alwan still grumbling, we pack up and head out of the inn. First, I head over to the mage shop Alwan mentioned to see if he's selling or teaching anything interesting or useful. As it turns out, there are several simple spells that he's willing to teach me, for a small fee. Given my current state of funding, I can't even afford half of the spell training he's offering.

With that, I head out of town down the road leading north from the school.

"We're heading for the Testing Grounds? Do you think we're ready for this?" Alwan wonders. "We weren't quite ready to become full Shapers yet."

"We might stand a chance," I say. "The rewards could be very useful, provided we could pass the tests. We're certainly desperate enough to take all the help we can get."

And if I should fail, I can always keep trying until it works. I kind of feel a bit bad that if I were to die, I would either wind up taking Alwan and Greta with me, or forcing them to head out into the world on their own to find out what's happening. But, I try not to dwell on it. There's no help for it, really.

A number of creations patrol the eastern road, enough that they might be difficult for the three of us and one fyora to handle.

I observe their movement patterns from a safe distance. "They're sticking to the road. It looks like someone just gave them instructions to patrol and left them here."

"We could probably find a way around," Greta suggests. "Sneak through the woods over there and avoid the road."

Alwan shakes his head. "That would leave the road dangerous for anyone else coming through. Outsiders wouldn't stand a chance against even simple creations such as these."

"Let's see if we can clear the roads," I say. "If we're careful, we can probably manage it."

One might call those famous last words. We start off well enough, taking out several fyoras and a couple of thahds, until we run across some artilas. One of the segmented worms spits a glob of acid at me, quickly eating through my robes and burning my skin painfully. Alwan and Greta are able to finish off the last of the artilas as I collapse dead.

* * *

I wake up with a grimace. Acid is probably one of the worst ways to go. What chance do I have at the Testing Grounds if I can't even survive to get there? I head out to the common room where Alwan and Greta are playing cards.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," Greta says. "Shall I deal you in?"

I shake my head. "Never did like games of chance."

"Oh, come on, it'll be fun," Greta says with a grin. "Not like there's anything at stake here."

I sigh and wave a hand. "Fine, fine." I go to sit down at the table with them. "Deal me in."

Alwan again stops her and goes to shuffle the cards himself.

"Where did you even find these?" I wonder.

"The merchant across the road had them," Greta says.

"Along with quite a bit of assorted junk not worth mentioning," Alwan adds as he deals out the cards.

"You just mentioned it." Greta grins.

I look down at my hand. Pair of nines. Exactly the same cards as I had before.

Greta and Alwan fiercely keep raising the stakes, but this time I don't fold, just calmly checking their bets. Finally, Alwan folds, and Greta looks expectantly over to me.

"Man, look at the picture of calm indifference over here," Greta comments. "Either you know you've got a good hand, or you don't even care. Which is it?"

"One way to find out," I say. "How far do you want to go?"

Greta gives me a long look, and says, "I fold."

"You come this far just to give up?" Alwan asks.

"I just wanted to see you lose."

"Bitch," Alwan mutters.

"How did you two even manage to play with just the two of you?" I pause. "Without killing each other."

"Best not to ask," Alwan says with a sigh.

We head out, and I go back over to the mage next door looking for training. Is it cheating in some way that I very much still remember what he'd taught me before I died, and now have effectively gotten free training? Maybe, but I never really cared about my life being fair. And I'm always more than happy to learn anything I can by any means necessary. Knowledge is of paramount importance. It's why I tolerated the Shapers for so long, and parroted their views to keep from being expelled like Greta.

Along the eastern road, I proceed with more caution this time, and try to avoid getting tangled up into fighting too many creations at once. And avoid the spot where the artilas were entirely.

"I wish we had come with the blessing of our teachers," Alwan says. "But every Shaper must choose their own time to be tested. We are well within our rights to be here. With one notable exception." He glares at Greta.

"I want to fight the rogues and avenge the lives they took, same as you," Greta retorts.

As we approach, a group of rogue worms burrows out of the ground, catching us by surprise. I trip and fall, and one of them latches onto my face.

* * *

Oh, for fuck's sake, seriously? Worms again? This is just getting embarrassing. Blood boiling, I storm into the common room, where Alwan is accusing Greta of cheating again.

"Deal me in," I say. As Alwan goes to take the cards from Greta, I hold up a hand. "Let her do it."

Greta looked at me in confusion, then just shrugs and goes to deal the cards. I look at the hand I've been dealt this time. Seven of cups, eight of swords, two of coins, king of swords, four of swords. I don't even bother playing. I just throw my hand onto the table and stalk out over to the mage's shop.

"What's with him?" Greta mutters as I step out the door.

I put down my coins to get the last bit of training I can eke out of the mage and return to the inn. Alwan had a pair of kings, and Greta a pair of threes, but Greta bluffed him into folding again.

"You okay, Lexen?" Greta asks as we head out along the eastern road.

"Not really," I reply. "Come on, let's kill some things."

Behind me, Alwan tells her quietly, "Let him be. We're all angry over the attack on the school."

I avoid being killed by each danger along the way and come to the servant mind in charge of the testing chambers. It's weak and incoherent, and I realize that it hasn't been fed in a while.

"It's hungry," I say. "Of course it is."

Grumbling to myself about negligent Shapers, I stride off in search of food. There's an essence pool swirling in the room across the hall, and with a grateful sigh, I sink to the floor next to it to replenish my magic. Traveling back in time isn't without its costs. Each one drains my essence a little more. Three deaths in one day is about the point where I start to feel it, at seven I can hardly cast anything, and at nine I might as well just pass out and not even bother.

After a thorough search of the building, I find a cabinet with a bottle of gray nutrient goo, and take it back to the servant mind. With some effort, I scoop the substance vaguely passing as food into the creation's mouth, and it slowly begins to stir and become more alert.

"Ah... I am well, young Shapers. I am sorry to have put you through such trouble. I assume you are here for the testing?"

"We are," I reply. Alwan shuffles behind me and gives Greta another nasty look, but says nothing.

"Then I must ask you, are you ready?" the servant mind says. "Are you ready to surrender all, risk all, endure all, for the honor and defense of the Shapers and their beliefs? Are you ready to risk death to become one of them?"

"We don't really have much choice," Greta says quietly.

"There are always choices," I say aside to her, then turn to the servant mind. "I am."

Alwan says, almost eagerly, "I am."

Greta just looks around silently. The servant mind doesn't even seem to notice.

"The way is open for you. Pass through and return to me when you have completed the tests. There are three sets of chambers, each of them containing two rooms to test different skills. You may choose which route to take. Either will lead you to success."

We head toward the testing chambers. After passing through the entry door, two more doors stand before us. I pick one arbitrarily and head inside.

Three turrets stand at the far end of the tunnel, waving their fungal tentacles about and spitting thorns at us. We pepper them with firebolts, but thorns keep striking me. The shoulder, the hip, the face. I collapse until the pain mercifully stops.

* * *

I wake again in the inn with a sigh, and head out into the common room to look at Alwan and Greta. I don't think they would have survived that last loop.

"Morning, Lexen," Greta says. "Want to play a hand? I'll deal you in."

I head over to the table and hold out my hand. "I'll deal." It's time to take control of my own destiny.

"Sure, okay," Greta says.

I take a seat and shuffle the cards, and deal them out. I've got a pair of kings this time. Alwan folds early on, and Greta winds up fiercely betting with me until coming down to revealing her pair of aces.

"If Lexen hadn't dealt that one, I'd think you were cheating again," Alwan comments in a slightly disgruntled tone.

We head back to the Testing Chambers. I don't even bother speaking to the servant mind first, simply going straight to the cabinet where the nutrient good is kept, amidst strange looks from my companions. Once the servant mind opens the way, I stride into the testing area and take the door I hadn't taken the past time.

A green-skinned humanoid creation guards this room. The thahd declares, "Shaper! You be tested! I stop you!"

I hold up a hand to the thahd and tell it in my most commanding voice, "Creation, stand down! I am a Shaper, and you will let me pass!"

The thahd steps back, cowed. "Yes, Shaper. You pass."

I stride past and toward the next set of chambers, and choose one of the two doors. Once I've stepped inside, a group of fyoras and cryoas, their larger ice-spitting cousins, appear around me. Fire and ice pelt me before I can even react, and I'm dead in an instant.

* * *

If I must get through this test by trial and error, then so be it. I head out of my room and go to sit down at the table, and ask to deal again. I look at my hand this time. Queen of cups, jack of wands, king of cups, ten of wands, two of cups. The future changes only when I take a hold of it. Nothing is ever perfect, but it's mine nonetheless.

"Almost a straight is not a straight," Alwan grumbles.

"But you guys still folded." I grin crookedly.

I make my way to the Testing Grounds again and through to the chamber we'd made it to before. I'm quite grateful for the essence pool outside the testing chambers. This time, I choose the other door rather than the one with the fyoras and cryoas.

A row of mines lays across the floor in front of us, blocking the way. I'd like to think I'm pretty good with mechanics, so I go forward to try to disarm them. With an eruption of fire, they blow up in my face at my clumsy attempt.

* * *

I take a deep breath as I wake again. There has to be a way past that. I just need to think of something. I rub my head and go out to deal another round of cards.

I look down at my hand. Nine of swords, six of wands, eight of wands, five of wands, seven of wands. I could sit here forever trying for the perfect hand, but perfect isn't necessary. It just needs to be good enough.

Neither of them is willing to back down this time. Alwan has a pair of sevens, and Greta a pair of threes.

"You got lucky that time," Alwan says.

I chuckle ruefully. "Luck is never on my side."

"Why is it that he gets lucky, while you say I cheat?" Greta says.

We head to the Testing Grounds again. At the essence pools outside the testing chambers, I stop to make two more fyoras, and call them Burny and Torchy.

"Good idea," Alwan says. "More creations will be of great help in surviving the trials."

Outside the second set of chambers, I say, "Alright, when that door opens, Alwan, you charge in first. I'll send in the fyoras after, then we'll back you up."

Alwan nods. "Got it."

I cast a blessing spell over the group. "Let's go!"

Alwan charges in to stab one of the cryoas with his sword. Sparky, Burny, and Torchy make quick work of the other cryoa. I come in behind and cast a spell to daze the enemy lizards. What once had been instant death quickly turned into a curb stomp. But there's still one chamber left to go.

We face down a powerful thahd in the final chamber. I refresh the blessing spell on my group, followed up by a protection spell, then cast acid upon it. It doesn't turn out to be any more difficult than the previous chamber, really. After a concentrated application of violence, the thahd reverts to a pool of essence. We've won.

"We did it," Alwan says, panting heavily and gripping a wounded arm. "We passed the trials. We're full Shapers now."

Before returning to the servant mind, we make a stop by the essence pools to rest, replenish our magic, and heal our wounds. That was an exhausting ordeal, and not one I care to repeat anytime soon. I lay next to the essence pool, almost drifting off into a nap, but Alwan nudges me before I can fall asleep.

"Let's go see the servant mind," Alwan says. "You can sleep after."

I nod wearily, and trudge across the hall to speak with the creation. This will be quick and surely not dangerous. I just want to sleep afterward, though.

"Congratulations, young Shapers," the servant mind says. "You should now return to the Shaper Council to be given tasks. For your reward, I have opened the way to the library to the south. You may go in and study the books therein."

I'm not so tired as to pass up an opportunity to study, though. Practically skipping, I dart inside to peruse the books.

"I hope this was all worth it," Greta says quietly.

"Absolutely," I reply without hesitation, not looking up from the book I'm poring through.


	3. Never Gonna Give You Up

As we travel through the forests of Greenwood Isle, a figure emerges from the trees and approaches us. I raise my hands ready to cast magic if need be, but he is calm and does not seem about to attack us. At first I take him for a man, until I get a closer look at his dark, purplish skin and long nose. He's the most well-dressed servile I have ever seen, and he has a sword and a thorn baton hanging from his belt. No shapeless robes for him, but actual pants, chitin armor, and a cloak.

Alwan scowls. "What is this? An armed servile?"

"Good day to you too, Shaper," the servile says with an amused smirk. "My name is Rispy."

There's something familiar about him, as though in the back of my mind, I should know this creation. And something about him seems to resonate with my soul. This is a very strange sensation.

"I'm Lexen," I say after a long moment. "And this is Alwan and Greta. And Sparky, Burny, and Torchy."

"You really don't need to introduce the fyoras," Alwan mutters.

Rispy gives me a long, penetrating look. "A pleasure to meet you."

"I've never seen an armed servile before," Greta comments quietly.

"It's obviously a rogue," Alwan says. "Probably in league with Litalia."

"Litalia?" Rispy snorts softly. "No. I'll take orders from no one but Lexen."

"Huh?" I say dumbly. Did this strange creation somehow wind up bound to me? Is that why there's such an odd feeling about it?

"Just Lexen?" Alwan says in puzzlement. "Not just any Shaper?"

"Only Lexen gets to tell me what to do," Rispy says. "No confusion or contradictory orders."

"And why are you armed, servile?" Alwan asks.

"I am here to assist Lexen. I'm not even going to pretend to be your typical dumb servile that has no thought beyond the task immediately before them. I was born free, on an old Barred island that had not seen Shapers in centuries. But your people bred my kind to be obedient. Even for an independent servile, it's difficult to resist the orders of a Shaper. And so, I choose to follow _one_ Shaper. Lexen's choices are my own, whether that be to conquer or to liberate, to save the world or to break it, to heal or to kill."

I have no idea what to make of this, and from a glance aside to Alwan and Greta, neither do they.

"Maybe I've come too soon," Rispy goes on. "You haven't seen what's going on out in the world yet. But," he shakes his head, "I don't care. I did not wish to remain in hiding any longer. I will not be kept out of the action."

"This servile is behaving very strangely," Alwan says aside to me. "Do you think he really will obey you?"

"Yes," I reply.

"How can you be certain?"

"Because I can feel a connection to him, much as I can my fyoras." It's not quite the same thing. It's actually much, much stronger. Like threads next to a rope.

Alwan seems to be satisfied with that, and nods tersely.

"Alright, Rispy," I say. "I hope you know how to use those weapons. We're going to need them. There's a lot of rogues to destroy still."

"Lead the way," Rispy says with a grin.

I realize that I've felt this connection for as long as I can remember. No wonder I hadn't really noticed it before. It had been there for so long that I was used to it. But with him directly in front of me, that came to the forefront of my mind. No wonder he'd felt so familiar, too. But how can this be? I know perfectly well that I've never shaped a servile before. I have no explanation, and that bothers me to no end. And yet, I know, deep down, that Rispy's words are true.

There is much to be done yet before Greenwood Isle will be safe again. The place is swarming with rogue creations. Rispy might have only basic equipment one might expect of a typical grunt, but he fights like a hardened veteran even as he tries to hide it. He never shows off, but quickly and efficiently brings down his foes.

"Damn, I wish we'd had you along when we ran through the Testing Grounds," Greta says.

Rispy snorts softly and shakes his head. "You ran the Testing Grounds already. Of course you did. Here I was out waiting in the woods for you to come by, and didn't think even Lexen would be insane enough to... oh, never mind. Of course he would."

"You talk as though you already know him pretty well," Greta says.

"Eh, it's a long story," Rispy says with a shrug. "And I really don't care to summarize right now. Let's just kill more rogues."

"I believe you do owe us more of an explanation, servile," Alwan says. "None of this makes any sense."

Rispy sighs. "You're right. I know. I suppose there's no avoiding it. It's complicated. And I was impatient. No help for it. Let's find a good spot for storytime, and I'll try to explain, alright?"

We head back to the inn in South End and settle in for dinner and a story, apparently. I'm incredibly curious and can hardly eat for anticipation.

"This had better be good," Alwan says, settling in at the table.

"Lexen," Rispy says, and takes a deep breath. "You're older than you look. You're a time traveler. And you have amnesia."

I stare at him for a long moment, then let out a flat, "What."

"You go back in time when you die, to the last point you woke up," Rispy says.

I open and close my mouth a few times in surprise. I can't argue with him. I know he speaks the truth. I didn't realize anyone even knew about that little ability.

"That's preposterous," Alwan says.

"He's right," I say quietly.

"That's why!" Greta says, snapping her fingers and pointing at me. "In the Testing Grounds! You knew exactly where you were going, where to find things, and what to expect."

"I don't remember anything before I started Shaper training," I say. "But then I was only five, and they said that I was an orphan they'd taken in because they sensed potential in me or something."

Rispy nods. "Yeah, you can change your age at will." He holds up a hand. "I wouldn't suggest trying it now, though. Too far in one direction will kill you. And while that's just an inconvenience to you, I don't imagine you want to do that just now."

I chuckle. "Yeah, point, thanks for the warning. So, what in the Abyss did I do? Age myself down to get into Shaper training and then promptly forget everything before then?"

Rispy sighs and shrugs helplessly. "You forget when you want to forget. And you may have wanted to forget so that it wouldn't interfere with becoming a Shaper."

Alwan frowns and looks over to Rispy. "So where do you fit into all this?"

"I met him on the island where I was born," Rispy says, letting out a deep breath. "A lifetime ago. And I chose to follow him. Your creations, they follow you become they have to. You've never dealt with one who follows because they _choose_ to." He sighs and puts a hand to his forehead. "And with the way his memory goes and how reckless he can get, someone has to keep an eye on him. He was safe enough inside the school, but once Litalia came to attack and the island got swarmed with rogues, I couldn't wait any longer. I had to be by his side."

"You hung around waiting for me the entire time I've been training?" I say.

Rispy nods. "I pretended to be a dumb servile, sometimes. I followed you to Greenwood Isle when they sent you here for further training." He shrugs. "It's not a worry. I'd wait for you forever if I had to."

"This is a lot to take in," I say. "I think I'm going to need to sleep on it."

"Good idea," Rispy says. "I'll keep watch at the door." He goes and steps outside.

Once the door has closed, Alwan turns to me and says quietly, "That's a very strange creation indeed. But he seems to be loyal."

"Forget the servile," Greta says, waving a hand. "Time travel! This is incredible! Think of the things that could be done with this."

"Can you stop the attack on the school?" Alwan says thoughtfully.

I shake my head. "I only go back to the last time I slept. Not only is it already too late, but I was asleep when they attacked. It was all I could do to make it out of there at all."

"At least we can still put a stop to these butchers, one way or another," Alwan says with a frown.

"Yeah," I say quietly as I head to my room. "Yeah..."

* * *

In the morning, we make for Fort Kentia. I really can't deny what Rispy told me. It all feels so very familiar and right. At least Alwan doesn't seem to have too much of a problem with him. He's smarter than creations are usually allowed to be, but his fierce loyalty probably makes up for that.

In a cave near Fort Kentia, we run across a man standing watch. "Halt, Shapers! This is our Refuge, and you are not welcome here."

"A Refuge?" I ask in confusion.

"It's a place for those who want to live apart from the Shapers," Greta supplies.

"Or a hiding place for criminals," Alwan adds, narrowing his eyes.

"Talk to me, if you must, but don't disturb the people inside," the watcher says. "I don't want to have to fight you, but I will if I must."

"Relax," I say, holding up a hand. "We're just hunting down rogue creations. Have you seen anything unusual around here?"

"You mean those unnatural monsters your kind makes?" he says. "Some weird worms have been breeding in the caverns to the north."

I nod. "Okay. Thanks. We can handle that."

Further on in the cave, amidst several paler worms, there's a particularly tough dark gray artila. As we try to bring it and its brood down, it takes a look at me and spits a nasty, burning glob that strikes me square in the face. I die screaming in bloodcurdling agony.

* * *

Hate acid, hate acid, hate acid. Grumbling to myself, I lead the way out into the forest again to clear out the rogues, and back into that damned cave. The Refuge watchman accosts us again.

I shrug. "I don't mean to disturb your Refuge. We're just hunting monsters to make the area safe again."

"What, you're not bothered that we don't want your unnatural magic around here?" the watcher says.

"Not really," I say.

"There's a group of your disgusting worms that have slithered into the caverns to the north. Everything was fine up until recently, and then these monsters appeared everywhere. Your kind must be responsible for this. They always are."

"Yeah, pretty much," I say. "I'll go take care of that."

As we go off to clear out the artilas, Alwan says to me, "How can you let him speak to you that way?"

"Because I don't have anything to prove," I say.

"It's an embarrassment to Shaper authority," Alwan says.

"I kind of don't think they care much about Shaper authority to begin with," I comment. "Alwan, let's pay attention to killing rogues. We can argue when we're somewhere safe. Okay?"

Alwan nods tersely. "Agreed."

That tough, dark gray artila is still further in the cave, and it's a good thing that we're all paying close attention now. It's still a rough fight, and we don't make it out unscathed. Torchy bravely falls in battle under the acid spit of the artilas.

"Alas, poor Torchy," I say.

"You know you shouldn't get attached to creations like that," Alwan says.

I roll my eyes. "That was sarcasm, you know."

Greta giggles. "Shapers aren't often big on jokes, from what I've seen."

In the back of the cave, the creations' nest lies piled up with rocks and bits of debris. Greta goes over and picks out a pair of dice from the rubble.

"Planning to take up dice as well as cards?" I ask.

"There's magic in these dice," Greta says, handing them to me, and I take them and look at them curiously. "A lucky charm," she adds.

"Gah!" I say, quickly dropping the dice as though they were an artila about to bite me. They both land with a single pip facing up. "My luck is _always_ bad. See what I mean?"

"Artila eyes is considered a good roll in some games," Rispy points out.

"I'm still not touching them."

Rispy chuckles and scoops them up. "Suit yourself."

After leaving the cave and fighting through another batch of rogues, we come upon a guard patrolling within sight of the gate and keeping watch.

"Shapers!" she exclaims. "I'm glad to see you. You are here to help?"

"I'll do whatever I can," I say. "We've cleared out a number of rogue creations, but there are still more out there. I'll make sure things are safe again as soon as I can, though."

Alwan says quietly aside to me as we walk away, "Why do you waste our time making promises to outsiders? Only Shapers can say what a Shaper should do."

I roll my eyes. "Yes, and I'm a Shaper, and this is what I'm saying I will do."

After rooting out another infestation of rogues around Fort Kentia, we finally head inside. Rispy gets a few odd looks, but as he's traveling in the presence of Shapers, no one dares make a comment. I go to meet with the commander of the fort while the others go off to explore town.

"There's a quarantine in effect right now, to prevent the spread of the monsters," she tells me. "They first appeared in the mines, quite suddenly. Many people died, but some were able to escape. If you could investigate the mines and put a stop to the monsters, I'd be able to let you off the island."

"Of course," I say, glad that Alwan isn't with me. He'd probably be upset about an outsider trying to order around a Shaper. But to me, it seems like a perfectly reasonable request and something I would do anyway. This should have been a quick and easy conversation, since I'm perfectly agreeable to helping, but she goes on and on in great detail about what happened in the mines, the monsters everywhere, and passive-aggressively blaming the Shapers for everything in such a way that it's a damned good thing no Shapers who really care are here.

She also mentions an unusual Shaper device that her people recovered that she wants me to examine. I'm hardly paying attention to her droning anymore at that point and agree to it before it really registers what she's saying.

I head out and meet back up with the others.

Alwan seems to have become disgruntled anyway. "Everyone in town seems to expect us to solve their problems for them."

"I really don't mind," Greta says. "Most of their problems may seem intractable to them can be solved in five minutes with an appropriate application of magic."

"Or a sword in the right place," Rispy adds. "There was someone who needed a potion, but fortunately we'd found the ingredients for it already and the alchemist outside was willing to make it."

"Was I really in there that long?" I raise an eyebrow.

"Did you learn anything from the commander?" Alwan asks.

"The island is quarantined," I say. "We'll have to put a stop to the infestation of rogues to make sure none of them leave the island. They seem to have come from the mines. Also, there's a Shaper device the commander wants me to examine."

Over in the building the commander mentioned, a crystal canister sits in the corner. Some sort of magically charged fluid swirls about inside. There's a mechanism on top that seems to indicate that it will pump the essence into your body when you press your hand on top of it. And it... practically sings to me.

Rispy sighs. "I was afraid of this. Lexen... I won't presume to tell you what you should do here, but I'm obligated to warn you. These canisters... They'll make you strong. Powerful. But they have a price. They've broken the minds of lesser men, and driven stronger men to madness. It takes a person of strong will to master himself and control himself, with difficulty. You, of course, would be capable of it. You are a mighty Shaper, and your will is the strongest I have ever seen. But the choice is yours."

I nod and approach the canister. "I'll take that chance."

I put my hand on top of the canister and feel the charged essence rush up my arm, tingling, and sink into my body. It seems to have... changed me in some way, and it felt _wonderful_. I feel stronger, just a little, more readily able to use magic and shape creations. All the while, I notice out of the corner of my eye, Rispy is watching me with an unreadable expression.

"That... wow," I say.

"What's it like?" Greta asks.

"That's amazing," I say. "I don't know what else to say."

Alwan is watching me with a thoughtful expression. I think he doesn't know what to say, either.

"Let's stop in the inn for the night and go and check out the mines in the morning," I say.

When we get to the inn, however, the innkeeper says, "I'm sorry, there's no room here, and certainly nothing suitable to your exalted station."

Alwan clenches his fists, but before he can say anything harsh to the poor woman, I hold up a hand to him.

"It's fine," I say. "We'll head back to South End. The inn there is deserted, and it's nice and quiet."

"That's a fair walk back," Alwan protests as I practically drag him out of the inn.

"Would you prefer to sleep in the stables?" I hiss.

Rispy puts in, "Might I suggest investing some bedrolls, maybe in a tent? If we're going to be doing a lot of traveling, staying at an inn won't always be an option, and sometimes taking refuge in any building or defensible position available may be necessary."

Alwan opens his mouth as if to protest, then just glares and me and says, "Lexen, your servile having a point is even more annoying than _you_ having a point."

I chuckle softly, and head over to one of the shops to procure some bedrolls. With that, we head over to the entrance to the mines and barricade ourselves into one of the storage buildings outside for the night.

* * *

As we step into the mines, the sounds of creations can be heard in the distance, and there's the faint smell of vinegar.

Alwan sniffs the air. "That's strange. I don't know of any Shaping that uses vinegar."

Rispy frowns, and says quietly, "I know what this is."

"What, Rispy?" I ask.

"Spawners," Rispy utters, spitting the word almost like a curse. "The stupidest idea anyone ever came up with. It's a creation that spits out rogues. No wonder this island is overrun."

Alwan looks horrified. "Who would do such a thing?"

"How do you know so much about this?" Greta says. "You've encountered them before?"

Rispy sighs. "Some misguided fools think that swarming an area with rogues is the best way to fight the Shapers. I suppose it was too much to hope for that the idiots responsible for this sort of thing all died when Sucia and Drypeak were purged."

"That's insane," I comment as we head in and start killing rogues.

Rispy nods. "I've tried to tell them that. I've told them all it does is hurts innocent people and makes everyone hate you. They don't listen. They never _listen_." He fwips a thorn at a fyora with his baton, and it goes down. "This is what they do with their fucking freedom." He spins around and takes down a thahd with a second thorn.

"This sort of power, out of the hands of the Shapers?" Greta says.

"It's way out of hand," Rispy says. "You can't unring a bell. No matter what the outcome will be, there will be bloodshed. Many lives will be lost." He sighs. "And I don't know what side is right. Maybe all of them. Maybe none of them. And that is why I follow Lexen. I don't have the answers. And that judgment isn't mine to make."

"It most certainly is not, servile," Alwan says. "You are already more intelligent and opinionated than I would expect of a creation. But at least it seems to be along acceptable lines."

Rispy chuckles ruefully as he reloads his thorn baton. "There was a time I might have rankled at words like that. But that was lifetimes ago, and I can only hope that I've seen the worst of what living beings can do to one another."

After destroying enough spawners that I lose count of them, we encounter an insubstantial image of a robed woman near the deepest part of the mine. "Yes. Young Shapers. I have a message for you."

"Okay, I'll bite," I say. "What is it?"

"There is a creation that I made further within the mine," she says. "It is of no further use to me. Do with it as you wish."

"Well, that's great, seeing as we were going to do that anyway," I comment dryly.

"When you leave this island and explore further, we may meet, and you might join with me," she goes on. "We have a great purpose, one that may be able to repair the world."

"That, I'll have to see for myself," I say.

"That is all. Farewell." The image begins to dissipate.

"For all the damage done to our school and the lives of our teachers, death is the only fate to be deserved," Alwan growls.

"Can't argue with that," I say. "The only question is, _who_ deserves to die for it..."

At the heart of the mines, we find a hideous creation. It looks like someone put a humanoid head and torso on top of a spawner, meshed together with all the grace of an artila that was accidentally shaped without skin. What's worse, it flails about uncontrollably, eyes unfocused and pointing in different directions. Not only is it a misshapen monstrosity, but its mind is broken on top of that.

"What in the ever-living fuck," I utter. "Who would shape something like this and then just leave it here in this state?"

"This is insane, irresponsible, and violates everything the Shapers stand for," Alwan says.

I nod, and ignore the mad creation trying to babble at me. It's incoherent, barely managing to string words together. I lift my hands and cast blessing and protective spells over my companions, and say, "Let's kill."

We rain fire down upon the abomination and the crawlers it unleashes upon us. I stay well back behind the others. Going through this mine again would just be annoying. And in the name of avoiding annoyance, I'm barely injured myself from the swarm of creations, but both of my remaining fyoras are dead, and Rispy and Alwan are badly wounded, Alwan already casting a healing spell on himself.

"Here, I've got this," I say, going up to Rispy's side and trying to heal him as well, not especially successfully.

Alwan sighs and goes up to heal the servile. "How are you so bad at this?"

Rispy groans softly as Alwan's magic closes his wounds. "Thank you." He chuckles and coughs a bit. "Maybe I should be glad you've decided to use the canisters. At least your healing craft will be stronger."

Still sore and a bit worse for wear, we make our way back to Fort Kentia. It's a good thing we'd killed everything on the way in, because we're not really in much state to do so now.

The commander is surprised and pleased to hear our tale of success and promises us a boat to Harmony Isle. And offers another reward as well. "Here, this is a Shaper artifact. It was being delivered to the school when the attack happened."

I look at the object before me. "This is pants."

"It's... magical," the commander says.

"You're giving me magic pants," I say.

"I-- I apologize if you are displeased, Shaper--"

I laugh aloud and wave a hand. "No, no, don't worry. I'll take my magic pants and go. Farewell."


End file.
